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Der Kluge's Wilderlands Campaign
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<blockquote data-quote="reddist" data-source="post: 2967958" data-attributes="member: 5212"><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">The mysteries of the shrines uncovered, we turn again to the Halfling and his tales of a tomb carved into a hill. This tomb sounds more like the locales Cyridon and Theros are looking for. Chath says he and his party only made in through the entryway before they were attacked, and his companions were brought down fast.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">We follow the Halfling’s path deeper in the forest. The tree canopy grows thicker, and the boggy wet ground gives way to rotting leaves and nearly impenetrable underbrush. He leads us to a clearing near a hill, and in the distance we can see a stone archway leading deeper into the hillside. On the ground I notice signs of passage of many humanoids, both to and from the tomb. Chath and his companions have made tracks on top of these marks, so they must be at least a couple days old, but still… there is someone else in this forest. Someone who is not a skeleton or a frog.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">As we get closer to the stone entrance, we see more signs of recent defilement. Filth, graffiti, and vandalism to the stonework are evident. Chath marches inside, eager to show us where his friends met their end just two days ago, and crosses the threshold into the tomb. I shrug and nock an arrow, following after him. Behind me, Balderk and then the two spellcasters fall in line.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Theros cries out, clutching his chest as he passes into the tomb. Waves of nausea wrack him and he collapses to his knees, fighting back the urge to vomit. He pants heavily as he regains himself while Cyridon inspects the pavestones. Some sort of selective ward. I too can pick out the thin inscriptions that cover the line of stones marking the border between the outer pavestones and the inner foyer, but messing with them wins me a cold shock of my own. Chath offers to inspect them, but he also is shocked, though neither of us as badly as Theros was. Finally Theros is able to stand, and we move deeper into the tomb.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">The midday sun lights up the first 50 or 60 feet, and shadows claim the rest. Chath and I spot blood stains and drag marks, and we find the bodies of his companions piled in a side room. He cries out and runs to them, but I soon see him rifling through their effects and pocketing coins and small jewelries. I ignore him and look at their equipment. The dwarf carried a heavy axe, and the mercenary had a matching set of sword and shortsword. Still no mace. I’ll be dead out here before I find a mace.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">We creep further down the main passage to find an intersection. I hold up my hand for silence, and I pick out thin scraping of heel bones on stone cobbles, the clickling of finger bones on stone walls. I am able to shout a warning just as four of the red skeletons lurch at us from the darkness.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Crydidon again lifts his sigil, shouting words of command. He stammers though, and only one of the dripping, blood-red skeletons pauses to consider him. The other three rush at us, bringing their claws to rip into Balderk’s chest and neck. He fights them off as they tear at him, but they leave their mark… Balderk’s armor is darkened with his blood, and his breath comes in painful gasps. Chath and I palm several vials of the holy water, which we smash against the ribcages of the foremost skeletons. Hissing steam sizzles where the blessed water touches the abominable undead. A green streak of acid crackles by my head, and I can smell the acrid, burning odors of chlorine as the emerald blob explodes against the skull of the skeleton nearest me. Theros cackles with glee.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Cyridon pushes forward to touch Balderk and mutter those cold words of healing, which to me sound like metal against stone. Balderk surges with newfound strength though, bringing his flail up to bear. Soon the only skeleton remaining is the one Cyridon froze with his command.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"><span style="color: Blue">Let him go! </span> Balderk cries out. ?!?! I said. <span style="color: Blue"> I must fight it honorably!</span> ?!?! I said again, but I backed up to give Balderk his room. As I step back, I feel something smash into the back of my armor, and a cold wet seeps through to my skin underneath. I spin, raising my scimitar, and I spot Theros with a guilty look on his face. Delicate crystal shards lie at my feet, and I realize he hit me with a vial of holy water.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">He apologizes profusely as Balderk hammeres blows on the skeleton with his flail. Still… a nagging feeling tells me this was no “accident.” It has something to do with Theros’ inability to pass through the entryway without getting smacked with waves of nausea.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Theros, my friend, if you are concerned about any of your companions, I think I am the LEAST of your worries. Your cleric friend seems to have more in common with the ghosts and skeletons we’ve met so far, Balderk just ordered a captive enemy free so he could fight it “fairly,” and the halfling recently finished looting the bodies of his freshly dead friends.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">I think you have enough to worry about.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">I stand there, my back against the wall, watching Balderk finish off the skeleton and contemplating what future the rest of this tomb has in store for us. It’s only going to get worse, I know. Suddenly, I note that my wet back is cold. Turning to the wall, I run my hand across the bricks and mortar, and sure enough I find gaps where a slight breeze is coming through… I follow these gaps and trace out what appears to be a secret door. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Lucky, Theros. If my back hadn’t been wet, I might not have found this. I announce it to my companions, and set about finding a way to open it.</span></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="reddist, post: 2967958, member: 5212"] [SIZE=3][FONT=Century Gothic]The mysteries of the shrines uncovered, we turn again to the Halfling and his tales of a tomb carved into a hill. This tomb sounds more like the locales Cyridon and Theros are looking for. Chath says he and his party only made in through the entryway before they were attacked, and his companions were brought down fast. We follow the Halfling’s path deeper in the forest. The tree canopy grows thicker, and the boggy wet ground gives way to rotting leaves and nearly impenetrable underbrush. He leads us to a clearing near a hill, and in the distance we can see a stone archway leading deeper into the hillside. On the ground I notice signs of passage of many humanoids, both to and from the tomb. Chath and his companions have made tracks on top of these marks, so they must be at least a couple days old, but still… there is someone else in this forest. Someone who is not a skeleton or a frog. As we get closer to the stone entrance, we see more signs of recent defilement. Filth, graffiti, and vandalism to the stonework are evident. Chath marches inside, eager to show us where his friends met their end just two days ago, and crosses the threshold into the tomb. I shrug and nock an arrow, following after him. Behind me, Balderk and then the two spellcasters fall in line. Theros cries out, clutching his chest as he passes into the tomb. Waves of nausea wrack him and he collapses to his knees, fighting back the urge to vomit. He pants heavily as he regains himself while Cyridon inspects the pavestones. Some sort of selective ward. I too can pick out the thin inscriptions that cover the line of stones marking the border between the outer pavestones and the inner foyer, but messing with them wins me a cold shock of my own. Chath offers to inspect them, but he also is shocked, though neither of us as badly as Theros was. Finally Theros is able to stand, and we move deeper into the tomb. The midday sun lights up the first 50 or 60 feet, and shadows claim the rest. Chath and I spot blood stains and drag marks, and we find the bodies of his companions piled in a side room. He cries out and runs to them, but I soon see him rifling through their effects and pocketing coins and small jewelries. I ignore him and look at their equipment. The dwarf carried a heavy axe, and the mercenary had a matching set of sword and shortsword. Still no mace. I’ll be dead out here before I find a mace. We creep further down the main passage to find an intersection. I hold up my hand for silence, and I pick out thin scraping of heel bones on stone cobbles, the clickling of finger bones on stone walls. I am able to shout a warning just as four of the red skeletons lurch at us from the darkness. Crydidon again lifts his sigil, shouting words of command. He stammers though, and only one of the dripping, blood-red skeletons pauses to consider him. The other three rush at us, bringing their claws to rip into Balderk’s chest and neck. He fights them off as they tear at him, but they leave their mark… Balderk’s armor is darkened with his blood, and his breath comes in painful gasps. Chath and I palm several vials of the holy water, which we smash against the ribcages of the foremost skeletons. Hissing steam sizzles where the blessed water touches the abominable undead. A green streak of acid crackles by my head, and I can smell the acrid, burning odors of chlorine as the emerald blob explodes against the skull of the skeleton nearest me. Theros cackles with glee. Cyridon pushes forward to touch Balderk and mutter those cold words of healing, which to me sound like metal against stone. Balderk surges with newfound strength though, bringing his flail up to bear. Soon the only skeleton remaining is the one Cyridon froze with his command. [COLOR=Blue]Let him go! [/COLOR] Balderk cries out. ?!?! I said. [COLOR=Blue] I must fight it honorably![/COLOR] ?!?! I said again, but I backed up to give Balderk his room. As I step back, I feel something smash into the back of my armor, and a cold wet seeps through to my skin underneath. I spin, raising my scimitar, and I spot Theros with a guilty look on his face. Delicate crystal shards lie at my feet, and I realize he hit me with a vial of holy water. He apologizes profusely as Balderk hammeres blows on the skeleton with his flail. Still… a nagging feeling tells me this was no “accident.” It has something to do with Theros’ inability to pass through the entryway without getting smacked with waves of nausea. Theros, my friend, if you are concerned about any of your companions, I think I am the LEAST of your worries. Your cleric friend seems to have more in common with the ghosts and skeletons we’ve met so far, Balderk just ordered a captive enemy free so he could fight it “fairly,” and the halfling recently finished looting the bodies of his freshly dead friends. I think you have enough to worry about. I stand there, my back against the wall, watching Balderk finish off the skeleton and contemplating what future the rest of this tomb has in store for us. It’s only going to get worse, I know. Suddenly, I note that my wet back is cold. Turning to the wall, I run my hand across the bricks and mortar, and sure enough I find gaps where a slight breeze is coming through… I follow these gaps and trace out what appears to be a secret door. Lucky, Theros. If my back hadn’t been wet, I might not have found this. I announce it to my companions, and set about finding a way to open it.[/FONT][/SIZE] [/QUOTE]
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